


Babies are not Supposed to be for Betas

by thatgirl255



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta!Clint, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Post-Relationship, Space is great, alpha!bruce
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirl255/pseuds/thatgirl255
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As per usual dumb luck Clint, the only beta on the team, finds himself pregnant, thanks space. He's sure that his alpha, Bruce, is very happy about it, but his only concern is the dumb luck continuing on though the whole damn nine months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Clint woke up feeling like he was about to pee his pants. After he took care of that he was told he was out for a month.

“Aw, space.” This is why Clint always hated space missions. The wind and gravity was off, he almost ran out of oxygen almost every time, and he never knew when aliens were going to kidnap him and shove a weird looking bug up his ass. That last one was new. 

“We got something else to tell you.” Tony said, and he looked serious, too serious for Clint's liking. It really didn't help when both Thor and Natasha came up from behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You may want to sit down.” Thor said, and Natasha nodded worryingly. Clint looked at all the serious faces in the room and sat down.

It turned out that the parasite that the alien bad guys meant to put up his butt was a very very dangerously deadly organ eating bug that had been banned in seven different star systems. Clint would have been in the worse pain of his life and died before his teammates could rescue him. Lucky for him that parasite looked almost exactly the same as an on world parasite devolved to help with their extremely sharp declining birth rates. It imprinted into the host's body, knocked them out for a month and created a temporary womb. That, mixed with the fact that Clint and Bruce did some very fun, very private celebration shortly after he was saved, all led up to the grand reveal.

Clint was pregnant.

“Uh.” Clint, the only beta sitting in a room of protective looking alphas and one concerned omega, was very confused. “What?” 

“You're pregnant because of an alien parasite.” It was weird to hear Tony say it so matter of fact. Clint really wasn't sure if he preferred this over the expected teasing. “We ran tests while you were unconscious. Bruce is the, uh, other father, it's not going to be some...” He wiggled his fingers. “Alien...thing.” 

“Thanks, that takes a load off my mind.” Clint rubbed a hand over his face, slumping into the chair. Yeah, okay, Thor's advice of sitting down was a good one. “Where's Bruce?” It would be nice to have his mate next to him for this, not to mention he had been asleep for a damn month. 

As if the man was sitting outside waiting for his cue Bruce burst into the room. He looked like he had run half way across the damn city, sweat pouring down his face as he wheezed like he was dying. He seemed two seconds from collapsing, so it was probably a good thing he paused, wiped himself with the towel Thor passed to him, and tried to catch his breath.

Clint didn't know what the proper greeting was after he had been knocked out for a month by an alien bug and unknowingly impregnated. He was pretty sure raising his hand like he was in middle school and saying, “Hiya?” wasn't right.

Not that it mattered, because two seconds later Bruce had lumbered over and kissed him like, well. Kissed him like he hadn't seen him awake for a month straight. Somehow, this just made the whole experience a little easier to deal with (and it made Steve awkwardly clear his throat. Clint always felt a little proud when they managed that).

“You already told him what happened.” 

Clint was still feeling a little stupid from that kiss, so it took him a second to register the shift in the room. Bruce didn't ask, he growled it out from where he had perched himself on Clint's lap.

“He deserved to know as soon possible.” Natasha said coolly, but her position was off, open. It took Clint a second to realize that this was an alpha thing. “You know that.”

Bruce wrapped his arms around Clint protectively, and he must have been releasing some kind of pheromone because everyone (minus Thor, who was just standing on the sidelines observing this strange world's rituals) was standing openingly, submissively, and focusing all their attention on Bruce. Even with all that, however, Bruce didn't seem to be calming down. “I know I should have been there.” Bruce growled, low and dangerous. “I'm his mate. Does that mean nothing?”

Yeah okay. This was the part where Clint had to make sure that nothing green showed up. Acting on the first thing that popped into his mind, Clint turned Bruce's head so that he could kiss him again, turn his attention to him. “Hey, relax babe.” He said with an easy lopsided smile. “You're going to be a dad.”

“Did you mean what you said?” 

Thankfully the Hulk did not make an appearance, as Bruce calmed down as soon as Clint pulled the 'dad' card. He also threw up on the floor and passed out on him, so that was fun. Apparently Bruce really did run halfway across town just to see him awake, which was weirdly touching. Right now, however, Clint was starving so he let Natasha steal him away to the kitchen to make him something. Steve was there too, for some reason, but he was making coffee so he could stay.

“I don't know.” Clint slumped against the chair he was on, staring down at his stomach. It looked the same as normal, he felt the same as normal. It was weird to think there was a person growing in there. “Kind of? We were just starting to talk about adoption anyway.”

“Adoption?” Steve looked over from where he was pouring coffee, eyebrows raised in shock.

“Surprise.” Clint sing songed without any joy behind it. Even though he had been asleep for a month, he felt tired. He hadn't even been awake for a hour before all of this shit was pulled on him. At least Steve, beautiful wonderful Steve, was there to give him coffee. “We didn't even get to the papers yet, we were just talking about—this is decaf.” Of course it was, because there wasn't any way that this day could get any worse, they had to fuck with his coffee. He sighed, suddenly annoyed, as he stood up and rounded ay Steve, who just looked surprised.

“You didn't even drink it.” He noticed, as if he had forgotten that Clint was a SHIELD agent and was trained in knowing if someone had tampered with his drink. He slammed the mug down on the counter, the still very hot liquid splashing out of it and getting on his hand. For the sake of glaring at the Golden Boy down Clint pretended it didn't burn. 

“Don't fuck with my coffee.” Clint ground out, then ruined it by immediately announcing, “I need to pee.”

Natasha just seemed amused as she watched him pass. “Again?” She commented, and Clint just gave her the finger as he walked off. When he came back Steve had an actual cup of coffee for him, and Natasha had a large comforting bowl of chicken noodle soup. The meal made him feel like a child. He ate the whole thing.

“Hey.” Natasha put a hand on his shoulder shortly after he started on the pack of crackers. “This is your decision, Tony knows how to reverse this but it has to be done within the week or it could hurt you.”

Clint snorted. “What, like an abortion?” Two hours since he had woken up, and this all still felt like a dream. Hell, he was pretty sure he had had this dream before. A lot.

He could hear Natasha rolling her eyes. “Exactly like an abortion.”

“You should talk it over with Bruce.” Steve said, drinking from his own cup of coffee. His was only halfway through it even though Clint had long since drained his own. He didn't see it as an problem at all when he reached over and took it. Steve just sighed. “He's known about this for a month he's...gotten used to the idea.”

“Course he did.” That wasn't a surprise to Clint. Bruce was the one that bought up adoption, Bruce was the one that always got a longing look in his eye whenever they passed children, Bruce was the one that always talked about family. It was Clint who was slowing them down. He was a fucked up spy, not really father material.

“The decision is yours.” Natasha repeated for emphasis. “Not Bruce's. He's not pregnant.”

“No matter what you choose, we'll all support you.” It was Captain America who said that, not Steve, and somehow that was much more comforting.

Clint sighed, a small smile at the edge of his lips. “Thanks.” And he meant it, nodding seriously to himself as he drank the rest of Steve's coffee. He could do this.

*

Despite all of his limbs feeling like jelly Bruce was very enthusiastic to see him when he woke up. Maybe a little too enthusiastic. They didn't even manage two words to each other before they were trying to climb each other like goddamn trees. After they did the same exhausting act that got them into this mess in the first place they finally had time to talk.

“I missed you.” Bruce mumbled from where his lips were pressed against his Clint's neck. He was loose and relaxed in a way that he only was with Clint, something that always made the archer feel both extremely proud and smug. 

“I feel like I just saw you yesterday.” Clint admitted, which it really did. Thankfully, Bruce just laughed, but then he shifted to get more comfortable. Clint knew he only had so much time before Bruce got too sappy and then slowly talked himself to sleep. “Hey, uh...” Clint cut him off before it happened, knowing that he needed to make a decision soon. “So I'm pregnant?” It still didn't feel real, but it was a fact of life. Apparently. 

“Yeah. You are.” Bruce suddenly seemed much more awake as he rolled over. He wrapped an arm around Clint's stomach and pulled him in, laying his head on his shoulder. Clint shuffled a little closer, appreciating the familiar embrace. “Are you okay? Do your feet hurt? Your back?”

“I'm fine.” That wasn't completely true. Physically he was a-okay, at least according to Tony, but mentally he was still waking up. “Uh...” It was now that Clint realized that he didn't know how he was going to bring up this subject. He decided to wing it. “So—” 

“I know it's a shock.” Apparently Bruce _did_ know what to say. “And it's going to take some getting used to but the team and I will be behind you every step of the way.” He found Clint's hand and squeezed. Clint gulped. “Plus we can throw away the adoption papers, burn them if you want.” Bruce smiled, and it was that shy, genuine smile that made Clint want to put whatever they were talking about aside and kiss him stupid. It didn't help that burning those papers did sound like a good idea, and it really just spoke to how much Bruce knew him. He had never been more thankful for his compromised bladder.

“I'll be back.” Clint untangled himself out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom. He spent just enough time there that he could calm himself down and just think. Bruce seemed all ready to support him to hell and back, which was more than a little sweet, but Clint wasn't even sure he was really ready to have kids. Or, well, have one grow inside of him, that was also a pretty big step. He just had to keep in mind what Natasha had said to him; this was his own decision, Bruce was just the very hot very amazing man that would be directly involved and the one that he was going to disappoint.

Great.

Clint ignored the butterflies in his stomach (it had been a long time since he felt this, which was almost funny considering his line of work) and walked out of the bathroom. “Bruce.” He started before he even saw the man. Said man sat up from where he was lounging on the bed, his hair adorably mused and his smile loose and lazy. _Dammit._ Clint figured it would be much better to talk to the wall. “...So there's apparently a week left that I can safely...get this bug out of me.” He shifted his weight and waved his hand around uselessly. “That's what Tony said, anyways.”

There was a moment of silence, just enough time that Clint could work up the will power to look over at his mate. Bruce looked completely different then he had before, and it made a lump form at the back of his throat. Bruce was...forced casual. It might have fooled anyone else, but Clint knew him for long enough to notice. Not to mention the look of 'oh, I should have known I don't get what I want' that flashed across his face. Clint hated that look. He hated that he was the one that put it there.

“...Okay.” Bruce smiled, but it wasn't happy. Hell, it looked more like a grimace. He sat up a little more, mentioning for Clint to join him on the bed. Clint hesitated, but he went over and climbed into his mate's arms. He wasn't the one that needed to be comforted but Bruce still guided him down and held him tight. He even kissed his forehead, which almost seemed a little over the top. If not for the situation Clint would have made fun of him. “Is that what you want?”

“Uh.” Clint decided to avoid the question in the most mature way that he knew how. He pressed his face into Bruce's shoulder and wrapped his arm around his neck, making a high pitched whining noise. He could feel Bruce's fingers trailing up and down his back, and the fluttering butterflies in his stomach seemed to quiet down almost instantly. Maybe he did need to be comforted. Whatever.

“I'm sorry.” Bruce mumbled, his lips pressed against the top of Clint's head. “It's a lot to take in at one time.” That was an understatement. “Think about it. I'll wait.” He kissed Clint's head again, which was even more ridiculous, but pleasant. “I'm sorry.” His voice was almost a whisper, but Clint heard it. “I wasn't thinking.”

Clint didn't respond. He tilted his head up so that he could kiss Bruce instead. He could feel the alpha sigh against his lips, his body relaxing until he was practically slumping against Clint. The blond took that as his turn to comfort, and started carding his fingers through Bruce's thick black curls. “It's kay. You scientist types never do.” 

He could feel Bruce shake with silent laughter, and Clint smiled to himself as he held on tighter. His mate was amazing, and fuck, he loved him so so much.

Unfortunately that didn't help him make a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started work on this a million years ago it seems like wanting to write something shorter and post it all up at once. After a while I realized it would work a lot better in a chapter format and so I thought I though give one a go. I hadn't done a multi chaptered fic in ages, but I almost missed it? Right now I have enough for about three chapters, so I'm hoping to update once a week. In the meantime, however, I hope you enjoyed! Any input, if you have time, about what you would like to see or just telling me off about my grammar, would be great. Thank you!


	2. Trying to Make a Decision

Clint was a spy. He didn't always disappear into the background, but he felt weird having all the attention on him all the time. He loved Bruce and his teammates were like family, but the first day he was awake there was always someone _there_ just checking in on him. The attention was great for all of an hour before he was sick of it, but he was trying to be nice. That nice act lasted another hour before he had to steal away. 

It didn't take long before he in the gym, high up in the rafters where no one could find him, not that they didn't try. Clint watched as every single person, sans Natasha, entered the gym with the obvious task of trying to find him. They would look around, check the shower room, check the training room, scratch their head and leave. The only one who found him was Bruce. He took one look at the room and then looked up right at him. He didn't tell him to come down, however, he just nodded, smiled, and left. 

God Clint really fucking loved that man.

Being alone gave him some time to really just calm down and think about this all at his own pace. Being a part of the Avengers had trained him to absorb ridiculous situations and react to them quickly. However, there was a difference between knowing a situation was real and accepting it as fact. He was pregnant, apparently, but it still felt surreal. His gender made it an undeniable fact that he couldn't get pregnant, just like he knew he wouldn't go through puberty and end up with a pair of double D's. 

(He would deny the fact that his hands went up to his chest at the thought, wondering if that would actually happen. He didn't think his pride could handle lactation.)

Clint was there for a while, he supposed. It was the only reason that would explain why Natasha came around and just waited within his eyesight. He thought about ignoring her, but then noticed the thermos she had in hand. He glanced at it, trying to see if there were any stains on it that would show what it was. 

“Coffee?” He called down.

“Would you prefer hot chocolate?” Natasha called back with raised eyebrows. 

Clint let down the rope so that she could climb up. 

There was another container hidden somewhere in Natasha's person, and it had just enough Reese's ice cream for two. Clint was a little too happy with his coffee to have it right away, but that didn't stop him from sometimes stealing some of Natasha's inbetween sips. They didn't speak, Clint knowing that Natasha would tell him what she wanted to say in her own time. That time was just as Clint was drinking up the last dregs of his coffee.

“Where have you been peeing?” Clint was pretty sure that wasn't what Natasha wanted to ask. Either way, he picked up the mostly full water bottle he had beside him, opposite Natasha. It had just enough room for one more break, and after that he would be forced to go back to his overbearing teammates. 

Natasha wrinkled her nose at the sight. “Keep it on that side of you.” 

“What? Wouldn't be the first of my bodily fluids that got on you.” Clint did put it back on the side away from Natasha, however, having the decency to wipe his hands on his pants before he handed back the now empty thermos.

Natasha took it and tucked it back to...where ever she had it. “I'll settle with your blood.” She said drily, then, “Fury knows what's happening.”

It was something that Clint knew he had to face sooner or later, but he would have preferred it to be later. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. “When do I have to go in?” 

“Next week.” 

“Seriously?” Usually Fury wanted to know everything that was happening minutes after it happened and that meant from every angle. Thinking about it, though, Clint was surprised he didn't wake up in one of the many SHIELD facilities. Tony must have had some kind of information that had Fury by the balls.

Natasha side eyed him, which was never a good sign. The 'handling with care' Natasha was over with. This was the 'these are the cold hard facts that everyone else is too cowardly to tell you' Natasha. “He's willing to wait to get your answer.” Her eyes darted down to Clint's stomach, as if the archer needed more subtext to know what she was talking about. “Until then you're suspended from SHIELD duties.”

Clint scratched at his neck. “Yeah, thought so.” Didn't mean he had to like it.

There was a small awkward pause, which was really uncommon between them. There was more to it, then. “If you go on leave and come back, you're coming coming in with level six clearance.”

“ _What?_ ” Okay, that was a surprise. He busted his fucking ass just to get to level eight, and he was going down _two levels?_ That was almost three years of kissing ass, keeping quiet, and being amazing (well, his version of them all anyways) and it was being x'd because he was pregnant? Not to mention he would have to retake all the all the exams that were required for getting into level six. “That's fucking bullshit!”

“That's Fury's decision until you meet with him.” Natasha's voice was cool, giving nothing away, but her words did. When he met with him, it would be Clint's job to convince him otherwise. Maybe he could convince him to six months of retraining instead. It would suck, but it would be better than spending fucking years reproving himself.

Clint sighed, slumped, and looked down at the gym. “...What about you?” This should be something he figured out himself, he knows, but he was so on the fence that any second opinions would be welcome. “What would you do?”

There was another silence, but this was was normal, comfortable. Clint took the time to reach over and get himself the second portion of ice cream Natasha had brought.

“...Bucky is a good lover.”

Clint nearly choked on the large spoonful he had just put in his mouth. It was common knowledge that Natasha and Bucky were involved in a _something_ and they had been involved in a _something_ for a while. However, the two never talked about it, or really acted like more then friends to each other around anyone else. Hell, Clint was Natasha's best friend and Steve was Bucky's best friend and together they had the combined knowledge of _nothing_. What was the point of being the best friend if he didn't get all the juicy details?

“However.” Clint was hanging onto every single word that Natasha was saying. Hell, he almost forgot to swallow his ice cream. “Even if I was able, I don't think we would be ready for children.”

Ah. 

Clint was hoping whatever magical answer that Natasha would give him would help, but it didn't. It just made him wonder what the hell Fury was doing, and also made him want to have this baby out of spite. He didn't think Bruce would be too happy about that decision, though. Still had some thinking to do, unfortunately.

“So~” Clint dragged out the word, tapping his spoon against the left over ice cream as he slowly looked towards Natasha. “What other futures are you thinking about with Bucky?”

As per usual, Clint was not able to get any more information out of Natasha. 

*

There were only two Avengers living in the tower that were born with the ability to have children. Natasha, with that whole female thing, and Tony, the only omega. It wasn't a secret to those close to her that Natasha was no longer fertile because of the training she got as a child in the Red Room, which meant that the only person who could naturally carry a child was Tony. Tony was a strange one, though, as neither he or Natasha had been able to tell if he actually wanted children. Clint knew that Thor wanted some (though would probably not get them in his lifetime), Bruce _definitely_ wanted them, Steve was still teetering on the fence, and Natasha, as much as she said otherwise, would probably run away one day and adopt a million messed up little Russian girls (it already happened once. They still send her letters inbetween missions). 

Tony, however, seemed to change his mind every other day; going from staring longingly at families to cringing at the sound of children at the drop of a hat. Clint didn't give it much thought but he assumed Tony would be the most against the whole baby thing. Apparently he was wrong.

“Gonna set up your fingerprints, just upgraded the system so, uh, smaller list.” Tony had called Clint into the lab to scan his fingerprints and put them back in the system. Well, that's what he said but it was pretty obvious what was going on. Tony was trying to butter him up. “Thought I would let you go through it and see if we missed anyone.”

Both Tony and the workshop were clean, which wasn't something that Clint was used to. On top of that, only one of his many tables had his usual tools and notes on it, and it was for new arrows and a brand new bow for the only archer on the team. The other tables were very inconspicuously filled with enough finger food to feed a party. Every time Clint took something and ate it he could feel Tony's eyes burning on the side of his face. When he would turn to look at him, however, Tony was mysteriously looking elsewhere. 

“And, uh, this.” There were two folders what were shoved into Clint's hands. One was the 'short' list of people that had 24/7 access to the tower and the other was a much longer list of reserve Avenger members. Tony looked a little nervous telling him the reason for the second list. He was rubbing at the back of his neck, toying with his hologram interface, and didn't look at Clint when he handed him a cup of fancy looking coffee. It was decaf. “List of people that can replace you when, you know.” He made a curving motion over his stomach and the last piece of the puzzle settled into place.

Clint had a feeling he knew what it was about, but he wanted to be sure. From all the evidence, however, it looked as if Tony wanted this baby as much as Bruce did. “Yeah, okay.” Clint put both the folders and the coffee down on the table to put all his attention on Tony. He should have been pissed that Tony was trying to make his decision for him, but he couldn't help but be almost thankful. It was good to know no matter what his team had his back.

He didn't let that show on his face, however, and he could tell that Tony was already sweating.

“Dude, it's only been two days. I'm not going to choose anyone to fucking replace me.” Tony wasn't even looking at him anymore, too 'busy' looking at his holograms. Clint was just glad there wasn't any alphas around, because he was sure the omega was sending out a ton of distress signals. 

“Not everything is about you, Merida. If we get called in in the next five minutes I'm not dragging along our only pregnant teammate.” He pulled up six profiles, all of them Clint knew. Sam Wilson, Luke Cage, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, Kate Bishop and Vision. They were all good, but Clint only needed to take one look at the potentials to know who he would chose.

“'Dragging?'” Okay, he could handle Tony being overly nice to him, but he wasn't going to stand for anyone telling him he was worthless. “I've been sleeping for a fucking month and I could still take you down in whatever damn suit you decided to wear.” Well, this had been a waste of his time. He was going to ask Tony to do something for him but he didn't want to ask now. Instead, he turned around, stuffed caviar—he was pretty sure that's what it was—into his mouth, and grabbed his new bow.

“Seriously?” He heard Tony call out behind him. He pretended not to hear him. “Clint?” The archer grabbed one more cucumber sandwich and then he was out of the lab.

The archery range wasn't made exclusively for him, but Clint has always thought of it as his space. More often than not it was empty when he came in and he could just zone out and let his muscle memory kick in. Unfortunately, since he had been asleep for a month his muscles were a little awkward and needed to be retrained. Not that he minded, he had a lot of pent up energy that he needed to get rid of.

Sometime during his sixth or seventh quiver, Tony walked in. Clint heard him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He could feel how awkward the omega was behind him, consistently fidgeting and pacing. It wasn't surprising when he broke the silence before Clint was even done with his quiver.

“I can fix that.” Tony said, aiming for nonchalant. Clint was focused entirely on shooting, so he didn't answer in the two second span that Tony seemed willing to give him. “Its, uh, not balanced yet.” 

The last arrow hit the target. It was a quarter of a millimeter away from dead bullseye. Clint couldn't help but let out a annoyed sigh before he turned around. He held the bow in his hand for a moment, judging the weight of it, before he gave it over to Tony. “It's leaning to the right.”

Tony took the bow. He looked down at it, took a moment to test the weight, and then stared up at Clint with too big eyes. “Bruce is really looking forward to this.” 

Dammit, he knew this had to happen sooner or later. Clint sighed, running a hand over his face as Tony kept talking. “When you were asleep Bruce was driving everyone nuts talking about it. I mean...” He sat down by the small table, taking apart the bow as he talked. “He was next to you almost every damn second. The only way we could get him to stop worrying was to talk about...” He mentioned to Clint's stomach and the archer couldn't help but put a hand on top of it. “Bruce isn't going to say it but happiness is a good look on him. Doesn't show up every often.”

“Yeah.” Clint had to agree with that, his hand fisting on his shirt. They could never bond, but they still went ahead and got married some years ago. It was interrupted at least half a dozen times by some dumb supervillain who wanted to attack a large gathering of heroes, but it was still one of the best days of his life. He promised Bruce that he would do everything he could to make him happy, and he wasn't lying. If anyone deserved to be happy after all the shit he had been through, it was Bruce. “I know. Bruce isn't the one who doesn't know if he's ready for kids.” 

He had never said it out loud before, but Tony just nodded mutely. He guessed he wasn't exactly subtle about his view point. Tony waved a really basic looking screwdriver around and asked, “Want to know what I think?”

“Do I have a choice?” Clint deadpanned. He got his answer when Tony continued.

“If you really didn't want this kid, you would have gotten rid of it already.” The billionaire didn't even look at Clint when he said this, just continued to fiddle with his bow. “So why are you dragging everyone along? Steve's already geared up to baby proof everything.”

Clint wanted to retaliate, but he stopped himself with a small choked sound. As much as he hated to admit it, Tony was right. If he really was against kids there wouldn't be a decision to debate over. Still, that didn't mean that Clint was a hundred percent sold. There was still one person he needed to have a no bullshit conservation with.

*

The best way to get Bruce's attention was to just walk up to him, put his forehead on his shoulder and grunt. Of course, he was the only one that could get away with it (actually, that was a lie. Tony was also allowed, but it was rare that he used that privilege). Bruce seemed very engrossed in some lab work before he did that, but in a second his full attention was on his mate. 

Bruce reached back to cup Clint's neck, turning his head to press a kiss against his temple. The blond hummed, pleased with the familiar contact, before he ordered, “Meet me upstairs in fifteen.”

“Twenty?” Bruce bargained. 

As he was leaving the room Clint gave him a look. Bruce was upstairs in less than fifteen.

Clint, while he was waiting, was settling his nerves with M&M's and Cutthroat Kitchen. The first contestant was just getting cut when Bruce sat down beside him. “Anyone good?” He asked, throwing his arm around Clint's shoulders.

Clint shook his head. “Pretty sure Dolly's a mutant, though.”

Bruce hummed and they watched as Dolly's short hair erupted into frustrated purple flames, scaring the shit out of the contestant next to her. That made the couple laugh, and then they lapsed into a comfortable silence. They watched the entirety of the episode—both of them not agreeing with who won—before Clint worked up the nerve to talk. “You want this kid, right?”

Apparently it was too blunt. He could feel Bruce tense in his arms, only to have him force himself to relax a moment later. It was an interesting reaction. “Is that what you want?”

“Don't avoid the question.” Clint grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing when he shifted on the couch so that he could face him. “I already know you want kids, and you want this one, right?”

Bruce turned to look at Clint, a cease in his brow that shouldn't have been there. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but then looked down, seeming to rethink it. The scientist crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and then sighed. “My father was a complete piece of shit.”

If there was anything that would get Clint's attention, it was that.

“He was a alpha with a lot of possessive instincts...just like me.” He reached over, gently rubbing the wedding band that Clint wore around his neck. Only place he wasn't afraid he would drop it in the middle of a battle. “When my mother wanted to leave and be with someone else, he killed her.” He took a deep breath, and Clint reached over to take hold of his hand. Bruce smiled at him to show that he appreciated it. “I hate it, but I know that I'm like him. Just the thought of you wanting to be with someone else...” He tugged on the wedding band a little too hard, and Clint reached up to gently coax his hand away from it. “Sorry.”

“It's okay.” Clint brought his hand to his lips so that he could kiss his knuckles. He knew that Bruce wasn't done talking yet, so he waited until he was comfortable enough to continue.

“And if it's not from me...there's a chance that they could get something from...the Other Guy.” Bruce chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. “My genes are...unfortunate but...” He looked into Clint's eyes, and his expression became softer, fond. No matter how many times Clint saw it, it never failed to make his heart beat a little louder. “When I think about our future I always see blond, gray blue eyed, maybe a little hard of hearing children running around.”

That startled a laugh out of the archer and Bruce seemed a little more relaxed. “Before this all happened, I was actually thinking about a surrogate instead of adoption.” His smile was warm and far away. “I wouldn't mind raising your kids.”

Clint's smile fell. “But not your own?”

The silence was more than enough of an answer. 

Clint licked his lips, not sure what to make of all this. This wasn't what he was expecting from this conversation at all. He, as well as everyone else in the tower it seemed, was under the impression that Bruce was one hundred percent gong ho about this baby. Now that there were talking, however, it threw everything into a new light. “Why does everyone think you want this kid?”

Bruce was back to looking uncomfortable. “I...always wanted kids.” He wasn't lying but there was something else, something that he wasn't telling him. 

“Bruce, do you really want to start a family on top of bullshit?” 

The scientist flinched like that statement physically struck him, which was good. Clint loved Bruce to death, but sometimes he needed a kick in the ass to get him out of his own head. “I, uh.” Bruce looked almost overwhelmed, but he needed to work though this.

“Bruce, this is a big fucking deal.” Clint huffed, pulling a hand free so that he could run it over the back of his neck. “If we make a decision without getting all the facts, you know...” He trailed off, not sure how to describe what he would do or how he could feel. He wasn't even sure what would happen. 

Thankfully it didn't seem as if he would have to say anything. Bruce hung his head, silently beating himself up for something (they would go back to that later) and admitted, quietly, “I thought if I said anything...you wouldn't want to start a family at all.” 

Oh.

Clint let go of his hand and stood, suddenly restless. Bruce wasn't looking him in the eye, which was good for now. It was petty, it was underhanded, it was everything that Clint didn't associate with his mate, yet there it was. Well, at least he knew why he seemed ashamed. “This isn't...” Clint needed another moment, and he pressed his lips into a tight line, starting to pace in front of the alpha. “This isn't like angry sex, Bruce you can't just...manipulate me into wanting a family.” He waved his hands around uselessly, and then put them on his hips. He was still reeling over this. “Just...really, dude?”

He glanced over at Bruce, and even through his anger his heart ached. He just looked so...defeated. Head down, body slumped, looking like he wanted to sink into the couch and disappear forever. Still, Clint swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and said softly, “I want to do this right.”

“I know.” Bruce looked up at him and he had that small smile on his face again, the humourless 'I deserve everything terrible that has ever happened to me' smile. Clint felt sick. “So...what does this mean?”

“Now?”

When Clint got the nod from his half question he stopped his pacing. His hands dropped to his sides and he stared out the window he was now in front of. There was a clothesline out on the roof on one of the nearby apartment buildings and he marked one of the poles as a target. His fingers twitched, already feeling the weight of the bow in his hands as he reigned in his focus. Just like in practice, or in battle, he had to let all of the latter details fall away. Bruce withholding information didn't matter, the teams opinions didn't matter. What mattered was the one questions he still didn't have an answer to.

Was _he_ ready to to not only raise a child, but grow one too?

Clint raised a hand to his stomach, breaking his focus to look at his mate. “Now...now I need time to think about...” He gestured to everything. “ _This._ ”

Bruce nodded, still looking so beaten down that Clint was tempted to cheer him up; tell him that everything was okay. He didn't. “I understand.” Bruce said, and that was the end of that.

That night, even though Clint didn't tell him too, Bruce grabbed a few of his things and went to sleep on his old floor. Clint lay in their too big bed, stared at the ceiling, and didn't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I originally started writing this I didn't mean for any angst but, well, that's how it ended up for now. Oops.


End file.
